TARDIS life
by imnotacommittee
Summary: A series of unrelated or related vignettes of life in the TARDIS for the Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble. Some chapters might be considered shippier than the characters are in canon. For that, I blame the amazing chemistry between David Tennant and Catherine Tate. They just click perfectly together.
1. First Morning

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**Note**: I am new to the _Doctor Who _fandom. If this has been done before, I apologize. And I have no idea if my thoughts about the TARDIS and how she interacted with people are completely off.

**First Morning**

Donna awoke to the most unusual sound: a low hum of some sort of odd engine. It gently pulled her out of what had to be the deepest and most refreshing sleep she'd had in a long, long time. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes and slowly allowed the room to come into focus.

It was _not_ her room. No, her childhood home in Chiswick was far away. The remnants of sleep readily evaporated, and reality finally pierced through her rested head. She was on the TARDIS.

Donna grinned. She'd done it! She'd found him. After a year of searching and tracking down all those odd occurrences, she'd fixed her biggest regret: saying no to the Doctor.

The events of the previous evening rushed to her. It was just as she'd hoped it would be: adventurous, exciting, fun… too many happy words to count. She felt them all at once. And he said she could come with him! He even said he'd love it! She laughed to herself. All of time and space literally were in front of her. She couldn't wait get started.

But first, she looked around her room. She had no idea how this TARDIS worked, but it seemed to have some sort of psychic link to her. And it (she?) had a sense of humor. Donna had noticed it last night and was amazed. But she'd been too exhausted to fully appreciate it. This morning, she could only raise her eyebrows in bemusement at the walls.

The room was her childhood dream room. Really. Complete with a canopy bed. She'd begged her parents for one when she was little, but they had never granted that wish. And now she had one: complete with a frilly white quilt and eyelet fabric overhead. The carpet was heavenly plush and the softest shade of lavender. There were a few pictures adorning the wall. She peered closer at them.

"Really? Prince Andrew?!"

But she was delighted anyway and walked over to the bathroom. Pausing, she turned around and said "The canopy was a nice touch, but I've moved on now," she said. "Do you work like that? Things just appear?" She walked into the bathroom and enjoyed a long, hot shower. She'd break in that bathtub later. Her stomach was beginning to rumble, and she had no idea where the kitchen was, if the Doctor was awake yet, if the Doctor even slept, if he ate… so many things about this new life she couldn't wait to discover.

She emerged fully dressed and ready for her first adventure but stopped short, laughing in disbelief. The canopy was gone, replaced with a queen bed with the most luxurious purple duvet she'd ever seen. Part of her wanted to crawl back into the bed and get lost in it. The pictures had been replaced with lovely scenes of different landscapes and seascapes. _Was that one a _spacescape_?_

"I see!" she exclaimed into the air and gestured to her new furnishings. "The bed's a little big. We're just mates you know. None of that nonsense… Still you never know. I could meet some handsome man from the 60th century. Good thinking, friend!" She patted the wall affectionately and walked out.

An exquisite aroma of cooking food greeted her. And what was that sound? A male voice was singing, a little off key, _I Wanna Be Like You _from _The Jungle Book_. Shaking her head, she followed her two senses and found the Doctor dancing around a huge kitchen. He was wearing the same suit. Or maybe it was another suit that looked just like the one he'd worn last night. He never changed; the thought pleased her beyond words. She studied him for a moment, this man (_no_, _alien_) who had seen centuries of life and love and heartbreak. He had sad eyes but always remained upbeat and more than a little zany.

Oh, they were going get along just fine.

She cleared her throat, and he jumped around, his smile a mile wide. "Good morning, Donna!" he exclaimed.

"And to you, Doctor!"

"Please sit!" he said eagerly and gestured to a table and chairs.

"Is this how it is every morning?" she asked and poured herself some coffee. "You make breakfast for your friends?"

"Well, on special occasions," he answered. "And this is a very special occasion. Donna Noble's first full day in the TARDIS."

"I spent my wedding day in the TARDIS!" she protested.

"Nah, that was just a few hours, and it was hardly anything like this," he said dismissively.

"I can make breakfast too," she said, eager to be as helpful as she could.

"And I look forward to it," he said, and placed a large plate in front of her.

She gasped. "Three banana pancakes? What you trying to do, make it so I get stuck in the doors?"

He blinked. But at her teasing eyes, he exhaled and placed a bottle of syrup next to her.

"It's green!" she exclaimed in shock.

"Oh yes! Green syrup from the Sacred Forest of Ekkam Major," he explained. "Much better than that maple stuff. Although I do love maple syrup. Do you know that one tree can produce up to twelve liters of sap per day?"

She looked at him blankly as she placed a strawberry in her mouth.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" he asked.

"Thank you, Doctor, it's really nice of you to make all this," she said, warily pouring the green goo drape over her meal.

He sat down and watched her like a child anticipating someone opening a present.

She took a tentative bite. It was divine. She closed her eyes and gave a thumbs up of approval. He beamed before bouncing up and getting a plate for himself.

"So, Donna Noble," he said as he sat. "Where would you like to go?"

"Well, I did want to go to Italy."

"Excellent! When?"

"After breakfast."

He laughed. "No, when in Italy? 42nd Century? During the Renaissance? Oh, you could get Leonarto da Vinci to paint your portrait! He'll adore your hair."

She blushed. "How about ancient Rome? See all those men in togas?"

"Molto Bene!"

"Shouldn't you say something in Latin?"

He shoved a pancake into his mouth and shrugged.

"After that, I say we go get some more of this green syrup, it's addicting," she suggested.

"Sounds like a plan!" he said and jumped up. "I can't wait to see Rome."

Donna laughed, filled to the brim with happiness. "And off we go."


	2. Oi! Eyes!

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**Oi! Eyes! **

"Can you please tell me again why you parked the TARDIS so far from the beach?"

The Doctor paused in his slow and steady gaze across his surroundings, making sure no one was looking in their direction. "Oh, you know, Donna! Can't let the locals see our advance technology."

"What about those perception filter things you keep bragging out?"

He shrugged. "Can't be too careful." He turned slightly. "Are you almost done?"

Her indignant harrumph was all the response he'd get. The changing stall lacked in privacy, much to Donna's chagrin.

After an entire day in the bright sun of Plarto's famous beaches, Donna had suggested they try dinner at one of the local restaurants. Happy to oblige, he had changed quickly into his preferred suit and trainers. But she found its shaky and thin walls a bit more of a challenge.

He knitted his eyebrows together; he should have parked the TARDIS closer for her. "Are you doing all right?"

"You're the one who insisted we only take a few things with us, Spaceman," she said.

"Why carry all that stuff around?!"

"Easy for you to say! You with those magic pockets. At least I packed a small bag for a change of clothes."

He frowned. "You didn't like it?"

There was a pause.

"Donna?"

"No, I liked it. Very much."

He returned to survey the other tourists passing by. One of the men paused a little upon hearing Donna's voice, and the Doctor glared at him. "Next stall friend," he said lowly.

"What?"

"Nothing, just talking to the locals."

"Sorry for snapping at you," Donna said, her voice softer. "Today has been fun."

The Doctor smiled. "Glad you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, thank you."

There was a brief silence as he heard her muttering to herself. Something about her hair being tangled.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you happen to have a better brush in your endless pockets?"

Grinning, the Doctor obliged and searched around. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed, turning. Opening his mouth to offer the brush to her, he found himself suddenly speechless.

Donna's back was to him. Her hair was indeed knotted and frazzled. It floated over her back like a cloud at sunset. Draped over her perfectly shaped hips was a breezy skirt that swayed in her every movement.

But it was her naked back that forced the air from his lungs. Her skin was a little pink from the day of intense sun exposure, despite the advanced sunscreen he'd provided. But it seemed to be glowing in the dimmed light, and he felt lost in the endless patterns of freckles adorning her entire body. She turned slightly, exposing a hint of her bare breast.

The Doctor's breath caught, completely transfixed at how beautiful she was.

"HEY!" she screamed, her arms immediately covering her chest. "What the hell are you DOING!"

The Doctor snapped out of his trance and met her gaze. His stomach dropped at the betrayal he saw in her eyes.

He handed the brush forward. "I, uh, have a…."

She backed away, breaking his hearts as she did so.

"Donna, I just wanted to give you this," he raised the brush higher, staring hard at her feet. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

She exhaled slowly, and he risked a peek back up at her. Her shoulders had dropped their defensive rigidity, much to his relief. Taking a tentative step forward, she accepted his offering.

"I am so sorry," he said again, his eyes incapable of getting any wider. Before she could react, he turned around again.

He heard her quietly rustle around in some fabric. Every second of her silence cut further into his hearts.

"Donna?" he dared to ask.

He felt her walk up behind him. "It's okay," she said. He turned to see her smiling softly at him, wearing a light blouse. She was working the brush through her hair, transforming it to a long mane that kissed her shoulders.

He swallowed, still rattled at the revelation of her beauty. But stronger was his shame. "Donna?" he asked again.

She met his gaze. "Yes, Doctor?"

"I am sorry."

She smiled. "It's okay, Spaceman, I know you didn't mean it," she said.

Daring to continue, he inhaled. "You, uh, look very nice in that outfit."

She smirked at him. "And out of it?"

His ears turned crimson. "That's not what I meant!"

Laughing, Donna handed the brush back to him and flipped her hair in triumph. "You're too easy, Doctor," she said.

After a beat, his shoulders relaxed. He accepted the brush and stuffed it back into his pocket. "All set then?"

She nodded and looped her arm through his. "Yes, you owe me a very lavish dinner."


	3. Gravitational Pull

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**Gravitational Pull (a companion piece to Oi! Eyes! – Again, a little more shipper-leaning that what was done on the show. But not too much.)**

Believing it was safe enough to stop, the Doctor held his hand up. Beside him, Donna practically doubled over, heaving in gasps of air. He looked back in the direction they'd just escaped from, nodding in satisfaction.

"We lost them," he said, breathless.

Straightening, Donna followed his gaze and took in another large breath. "Yeah, it looks like it," she agreed. Turning around, she peered into the opposite direction. "Where is the TARDIS?"

The Doctor groaned and spun on the spot. "Another couple of miles away."

Donna's shoulders slumped. "Great," she said before unceremoniously plopping onto the sand. "Just give me five minutes."

A breeze chased over them, and the Doctor shivered. Catching it, Donna clucked her tongue. "You're soaked."

"I'll be all right," he said dismissively, turning to study her. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine." Donna offered a small smile. "Sorry you fell into the water."

"Better me than you," he said, shivering again.

"Don't you have a change of clothes or something in those pockets?"

"No, I…OH!" the Doctor exclaimed, jumping up. "Not exactly a full change, but it will do!" He searched around and produced a light t-shirt and a thin pair of trousers. He beamed at her. "You are brilliant. You know that?"

Donna rolled her eyes. "Please." She gave the tiny garments a dubious glare. "They won't do you much good."

He paused in removing his suit jacket. "Nonsense!" he scoffed. "This will be enough. Better than these wet things."

She reached for the jacket and peered into the bottomless pit of his one pocket. "No trainers?"

Shaking his head, he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Whoah!" Donna shrieked.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked.

Avoiding the skin exposed by his slightly open shirt, Donna gestured to a small gathering of thin trees. "You're skinny enough to hide behind them," she declared. "Go change and I'll keep guard.

He gave her a side smile. "Donna Noble, I thank you for protecting my honor," he said.

"Oh shove off," she muttered, pointedly looking in the opposite direction.

Alone, Donna gazed off across the open ocean before her. It was slightly disconcerting to be on a gorgeous beach with no one else around, but she welcomed the solitude after being chased by a mad tribe intent on having a Doctor and Donna Noble banquet.

Sighing in bemusement, Donna turned to the sound of a light melody being carried on the wind. It was a tune the Doctor usually hummed while he was fussing with the controls, and she found it oddly comforting.

She glanced over in his direction and instantly turned back, mortified. The Doctor had apparently found a towel, and he had stripped down… to nothing!?

Her cheeks warming, Donna inhaled slowly, trying not to think of the naked Time Lord just twenty feet behind her.

He was just a skinny streak of nothing. Much too thin, and he had way too much nervous energy. And his hair was always standing all over the place. Donna smirked. She kind of liked how it did that. Like it was mocking any and all planets' gravitational pull. It was so, well, alien.

She frowned. _Alien_. What else was different about him? She knew he had two hearts and was centuries old. But what else…

_No, Donna. Don't violate his privacy like that_. She sat up straighter and stared hard at a pale purple cloud lazily moving across the sky, not noticing how her thoughts drifted along with it.

He was shockingly strong, considering his slight build. And that little hint of hair on his chest made her wonder if that had led to more…

A different sort of pull slowly forced Donna around again. As if spellbound, she stared at him, amazed that he didn't look all that different after all. Her pulse did a funny jump as he ran his hand through his hair.

The Doctor was drying off his arms. Arms that were more defined than she would have thought. He turned away, and Donna watched his back muscles twitch in the lacy shadows cast by the leaves. He placed a hand against one of the trees for balance. His hands were one of her favorite mysteries about him. They danced around the TARDIS console with the mad speed of a concert pianist. And when they wrapped a bandage around an inevitable wound she'd get on their latest adventure, they were nothing but gentle and light.

Her eyes drifted a little lower as he bent over, the tree blocking out anything she should not be seeing. In the back of her mind, she chided herself for _wanting_ to.

He turned quickly, always too quickly, and Donna gasped, spinning so fast she almost fell over.

"Donna Noble, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," she said aloud into the sea, anger flushing her skin. She crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together so tightly, it was almost painful.

Soon, the sound of shuffling feet walking toward her joined the soft hush of the rolling waves. She peered up at the Doctor standing above her. He looked more comfortable and even more energetic, if that was possible.

He held a hand out to her. "Ready?" he asked, his eyes dancing.

Accepting, she placed her hand in his. When he didn't release her, she looked up.

"What?"

He paused, considering his words. "Are you okay?"

Shrugging, she yanked her hand free. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," she said. Shaking her hair away, she smiled. "Onwards?"

Still studying her, he opened his mouth as if to say something but then immediately closed it. He smiled kindly.

Donna swallowed, feeling the color drain from her face. "Doctor?"

He offered his arm. "Onwards!" he repeated. When she laced her hand through, he patted her arm. "I'll make you a nice cuppa when we get back."


	4. Banana Bread

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**Note: **Again, I'm not sure if the TARDIS works like this. But I like to think she watches over her occupants.

**Banana Bread**

The first thing that broke through the Doctor's haze of unconsciousness was the throbbing in his head. It filled his entire awareness, setting his head ablaze and then dulling to candlelight before burning anew. He remained still, concentrating on his breathing and the steady beats of his hearts. Slowly, the pain subsided to where he could think outside of it; its intensity decreasing, but ever-present. A faint illumination materialized before his closed eyes, and he squeezed the lids tighter in protest.

After a few moments of eternity, the pounding was reduced to a manageable hum, and he carefully opened his eyes. His surroundings gradually came into focus, and he studied the walls and ceiling of his room. The familiar rhythm engulfing him was the engines of his beloved TARDIS. Warm in his bed, he gave himself a minute of respite, cocooned in her warm embrace.

Something new drifted into his mind. Beyond the engine noise and the dim glow so familiar to him, there was a foreign, but not at all unpleasant, element invading his senses. His eyes were stably open now as he tried to discern this new essence. It was an aroma, something sweet and warm, most likely some sort of sinfully rich food. It filled him with the deepest contentment.

He knew the kitchen was far away; the TARDIS was amplifying the fragrance to lure him out of his bed, and he had to admit the temptation to leave its haven was becoming irresistible. But something was off to him. Was this real or just generated by the TARDIS? She had many gifts, but she usually left the food preparation to him or to…

_Donna_.

The Doctor shot upwards, instantly regretting it. His vision swirled, and he swallowed against the sudden nausea. Around him, the medical alert sang urgently to him. He looked over and found a glass of water and some pills waiting for him.

"Thanks, girl," he murmured before gulping down the medicine. The effect was mercifully quick. All the discomfort melted away, leaving the Doctor alone as the pieces of the previous day fell into place.

They had been on some random planet. He had promised Donna a fun and sunlit place after their sobering experience at the Library. They had both needed something to cheer them up. And while it had been sunny, he had chosen the wrong century; they had arrived while the entire planet was ensnared in a brutal civil war. He had tried bringing her back to the TARDIS so he could fix their temporal destination, but Donna had taken one look at a distraught family and had demanded they help, even if it was just a few people. Unable to deny her, they'd spent hours offering whatever assistance they could.

He'd barely had time to register the small spheres falling from the sky for what they were until the first blast erupted, tossing everything from trees to people like toys into the air. He had searched frantically for Donna, just getting a glimpse of her vibrant hair before a second boom exploded behind him.

The Doctor closed his eyes, desperately trying to remember what had happened next, but it was all a blur of light, sound, and painful movement. The first clear memory he could formulate was waking up just a few moments ago.

Dread coursed through him, and he tossed the blankets aside. He looked down, seeing his tattered suit still clinging to him. How had he gotten to the TARDIS? What had happened? Where was Donna? He jumped up and looked around, seeing no glimpse of her. Around him, the medical alert still hummed above the low din of the engines.

"I'm all right, girl," he said aloud, but it kept buzzing.

Outside, the strange aroma became stronger, distracting him. Was that _banana bread_?! The random realization had the unexpected effect of settling his nerves, for the TARDIS didn't prepare food, and he had been unconscious for who knows how long. So that left one person who would have taken the time to bake something. A weight lifted from his chest at the revelation; he followed the beckoning fragrance to the kitchen.

Upon entering, the Doctor released a long breath, all his distress evaporating. There, seated and reading a book while sipping a cup of tea, was Donna. He stared at her for a moment, letting the warmth of the scene calm his racing hearts. She looked tired and pale, but completely safe and one hundred percent alive. Her hair softly draping her shoulders, she was the picture of reassuring peace.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Good morning, Sunshine!"

"Morning?" he asked, a silly grin on his face.

"Well, whatever time is kept here," she answered.

He looked over at the source of that heavenly scent: a huge and decadent ring of the most perfect banana bread he'd ever seen. "Did you make that?" he asked, walking over to the counter to cut a generous piece.

"Yeah," she answered, picking up a small bite of her own slice. "I was bored and knew you'd be hungry when you woke up."

He paused and turned to her. "How long was I asleep?"

"About twelve hours."

"TWELVE HOURS!?"

Donna smirked. "And you say Time Lords don't need much sleep," she said. He felt her eyes on him as he sliced himself a piece and sat across from her. "You must have been walloped."

"I guess," he answered. In the brief moment of silence, he heard the TARDIS's continued alert. He looked at the walls. "I'm fine now!" Donna followed his gaze around. He shook his head before tearing a piece of bread. "I'll have to see why that's not turning off."

His eyes closed when he plopped the bread into his mouth. "Oh my… Donna… this is perfection."

She grinned. "Glad you like it. It was my Gran's recipe. And by some miracle, all the supplies I needed were right here, just waiting for me. The bananas were even at the perfect stage of ripeness."

The Doctor opened his eyes and winked at her. He savored another bite, taking his time. Donna sipped her tea, and he studied her. "What did happen?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Oh, you know, the usual: new planet, some conflict, a few battles, we get caught in it all."

"No, I mean when the bombs went off."

She placed her cup down gently and met his gaze. "You were knocked out cold. It took me a few minutes to get to you. Thank God I managed to get you somewhat conscious. I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't. You're a string bean, but there was no way I was going to carry you all the way back to the TARDIS."

"You got me back?"

She blinked, affronted. "Who else was gonna do it?"

"There was no one else to help you?"

Donna sighed and looked down. "We were the only ones."

The Doctor stared at her, completely sobered. "You were alone?"

Looking up, she offered a half-hearted smile. "Well, I would have been if I didn't get you back home," she said. "And your TARDIS is a gem. As soon as we got in, your room was right next to the entrance. I got you onto the bed, took off your shoes, tucked you in, and let you be. I figured if it was serious, she would have taken us to the med bay." She cast a grateful glance to the ceiling.

He grinned and jumped up. Running around the table, he leaned over and hugged her fiercely. "You are brilliant, you are," he said into her hair.

"Oi, Spaceman," she said, but he could hear the laughter in her voice. He withdrew and kissed the top of her head. "You still owe me a sunny, fun trip, by the way," she said.

"Oh yes!" the Doctor agreed, racing back to his plate and wolfing down the remainder of his breakfast. Barely swallowed, he walked over to cut himself another slice, his excitement building. "And I know just the spot, too! The Fourth Half Moon of Perristoria. Oh you should see it! The One Hundred and Seventy-Second Century was its heyday. Nothing but miles of beaches with orange sand and the sharpest azure water in the universe. We can stay there for a month if you want."

She pushed back and rose slowly to her feet. The Doctor's elation immediately changed to horror as she limped to the sink. Her jeans were singed and torn, riddled with bloodstains. "Donna!"

She stopped. "Doctor…" How could he not have noticed how tired she was?

His mouth dropped and he dashed over to her. The TARDIS medical alert was now piercing in his ears. "Donna!" he exclaimed again. He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and scanned her.

"You don't need to bleep –"

"Donna, you're hurt!"

"It's not that bad," she insisted, leaning on the counter.

"Your left leg has second degree burns, lacerations, and your hip badly bruised," he rambled, frantically looking at her. He ran the screwdriver further up her body. Thankfully, those were her most severe injuries. Her left side had more bruises and burns, but her leg had taken the brunt.

"See? No broken bones. I'm all right, Doctor."

He stepped back. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She looked away. "You were worse off, and people were dead. A couple of burns and scratches were nothing."

The picture formed more clearly. "You dragged me back to the TARDIS, put me in bed, and _managed to make banana bread_? You did all that on that leg?"

She stared hard at the opposite wall. "People were dead," she repeated, her voice thin. "I can't stop seeing them. If I keep going, I don't see them."

"Donna," he whispered and this time, hugged her with the gentlest of reverence. He felt her shudder a little, and he dared squeeze just a little tighter. "Oh, my brilliant Donna." She shook her head against his shoulder.

"You must be exhausted."

"Can't sleep," she answered.

"Come on," he insisted. "It's your turn to rest."

She gave him a wary look. "No drugs."

"No, just let me get that leg patched up."

He slowly put his arm around her back, and started to guide her out of the kitchen, half-expecting her to soundly protest. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or scared that she didn't offer any resistance.

The TARDIS hummed its soothing song as they carefully walked to the med bay. She leaned heavily into his embrace. When she stumbled, he grasped her tighter.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Nonsense," he said. "We're almost there. She moved it closer, the clever girl."

"She's a nice mother hen," Donna said with a light laugh. It was music to his troubled hearts.

"I want to spend more than a month on that orange beach after this," she said.

He grinned and kissed her temple. "We can spend a year there," he answered. "Anything for my Earthgirl."


	5. The Sand in the Sky

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**Note: **This makes a vague reference to _Banana Bread_, but they're not really connected otherwise.

**The Sand in the Sky**

Donna swirled the drink in her hand, watching the bright blue sky turn darker. Even though she had witnessed this for two straight weeks, she didn't think she'd ever grow tired of it. Never mind that if it weren't for the thick glass between her and the sand-infused air outside, she wouldn't last a minute. It was stunning; surely that was worth the danger.

And she wasn't in any danger. She, like the dozens of other tourists, remained safely enclosed in the glassed walls, watching the wonder of an alien world unfold before her. Every night at the same time, the Fourth Half Moon of Perristoria would orbit the closest to its host planet. The bright orange sand would be pulled skyward, filling the air with tiny crystals. The setting sun would hit the grains just right, making them sparkle as they danced in the air. The show was never repeated; gravity and air currents were constantly changing.

Mesmerized, Donna let her mind drift along with the currents of shimmering flickers, called "The Sand in the Sky." This was what she'd had in mind when she'd packed her mother's car so long ago. But after all this time with the Doctor, she realized what they did more often than not (the running, fighting, rescuing, and saving) was deeply enriching and made respites like these all the more rewarding.

"It is stunning, isn't it?" a male voice asked.

She turned to see a tall, handsome man (human!) standing next to her. He smiled and cocked his head to the display before them.

Donna nodded. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching it."

He sipped his drink. "How long have you been here?"

She exhaled as she thought. "Oh, maybe two weeks?"

His eyebrows rose. "Two weeks!" he repeated. "You're very lucky to be able to stay here that long."

Confused, Donna narrowed her eyes. "How do you mean?"

"Well, most people can only stay two or three days, at the most."

"Oh," Donna said, searching the crowd for the Doctor. Unsuccessful, she returned her attention to this kind stranger. She never thought about that aspect of things; how did the Doctor manage to secure such a long stint at these luxury resorts?

She smiled at this stranger. "Well, I guess I am lucky then," she said and took a big swig of her drink.

He offered his hand. "Andrew," he said.

Accepting it, she grinned. "I'm Donna. So, you're staying for a couple of days, then?"

He nodded. "Saved up for five years to come here. I promised my wife a lovely second honeymoon."

Donna's smile froze. "Oh? A second honeymoon?"

Andrew nodded and looked across the room. There were observers lining every wall. One of them had to have been Andrew's wife. Noting the gentle gleam in her companion's eyes, Donna smiled to herself and looked around the room again for the Doctor. Still, she failed to spot him.

_How long does it take to get some drinks?_ she wondering in annoyance.

People around them gasped in appreciation, and their attention was brought back to the window. There must have been a gust of wind, as the sand swirled in a tornado-like movement.

Andrew shook his head, words failing him. Donna tipped her glass back, only to discover it was empty. She pursed her lips and turned away. She looked up and finally found the Doctor. He was across the room, holding two drinks and staring at her with the most peculiar expression. When their eyes met, the odd look vanished, and he walked over.

Upon reaching them, he offered her a second glass of whatever fruity drink she'd been nursing. He gave Andrew a quick glance before offering her a dazzling smile. "Enjoying the show this evening, Donna?"

"As always, Doctor," she answered, hoping her tone was light enough.

Never fooled, the Doctor gave her a concerned glance before turning to Andrew. "Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said, sticking out his hand.

The other took it eagerly and looked back and forth between Donna and the Doctor. "How nice that you get to spend so much time here!"

The Doctor rolled his head. "Oh, well, you know. It's worth it."

"Your wife certainly has appreciated it!"

"We're not married – " Donna said at the same time as the Doctor's "We're not together – "

Andrew nodded before his attention was diverted. A pretty woman was approaching, smiling happily. She gave Andrew arm an affectionate squeeze when she reached them.

"Sarah, this is the Doctor and Donna," Andrew introduced them. After the usual pleasantries were exchanged, the quartet was silenced as the moon started to drift along, letting the sand fall like a cascading rainbow back to the ground. People applauded when it concluded.

"It was lovely to meet you," Sarah said. "But, we should get going. We have dinner reservations."

"It's our last night here," Andrew added.

"Enjoy the evening," the Doctor said, smiling broadly.

They watched the couple retreat. Donna lifted the glass to her mouth, but found she wasn't thirsty anymore. "They're always taken, the good ones," she muttered.

The Doctor turned to her. "All right?"

She inhaled deeply. "Yeah, I'm all right."

Understanding, the Doctor took her glass from her and smiled softly. "Getting tired of paradise?"

She laughed. "Not on your life," she said. "You said a month."

"If I remember correctly, I said a year."

"That would be a bit much, I think," she said. As she looked at the other patrons leaving, something Andrew had said hit her. "Doctor?"

His eyebrows rose. "Yes?"

"This place is expensive," she said hesitantly. "How can we afford it?"

The Doctor's lips formed that exasperating "O" they normally did when he was trying to sugarcoat an answer.

"Tell me, Spaceman."

He waved in the air. "Just a little casual use of the psychic paper, that's all," he explained. "They think we're inspectors from a high profile travel publisher."

Donna smiled. "Under threat of a bad review, we get the best."

"Only the best for Donna Noble."

She rolled her eyes. "Please."

The Doctor studied her. "Don't you think you deserve a holiday, especially after our last adventure?"

"You already said thank you. You don't have to spend all this time here just because of that."

He stopped. Something in his expression startled her. "We're here because you're amazing and deserve to be treated like royalty."

Donna stared at him, momentarily silenced.

"And contrary to what you may think, I do like relaxing," he added.

His genuine and insistent gaze broke through. "Thank you, Doctor," she said.

Beaming, he offered his arm, which she happily accepted. "Ready to go? We have reservations too."

"Where to this time?"

His exhalation was exaggerated. "Someplace posh where the stars are multi-colored and the food is so legendary, people put their names on waiting lists two years in advance."

"Let me guess, you put our names in two years ago?"

"Of course!"

"It sounds exotic."

"Oh yes! Just us best mates."

Donna's heart tightened at the declaration. "Well, let's go then. We've got a scathing review to write!"

"That we do!" he exclaimed as they walked outside.


	6. Thoroughly Detoxed

_Takes place at the end of _The Unicorn and the Wasp_._

_I've read lots of post-Detox stories. They're all marvelous, but I don't think I've encountered this scenario yet. If it has been written, I apologize (and point me to it, so I can enjoy). _

**Thoroughly Detoxed (Doctor/Donna)**

"Onwards."

The Doctor pushed a lever down, and he and Donna listened to the TARDIS' song, wondering where they'll be taken for their next adventure.

Donna stepped back and cleared her throat, shimmering a little to cause the beads on her gown to dance. "I'm going to get into something a little more practical," she said. "I've had enough flappin'."

The Doctor turned to give his friend a final once-over in her period garb. "You do look lovely in that," he said, smiling.

She hunched her shoulders, shyly accepting his praise. "Thanks for giving me the chance to wear it! To think, we met Agatha Christie!" she exclaimed and waved her hands around. "I mean, it's just so amazing!"

Charmed, the Doctor laughed. He leaned against the console and studied her. "Where to next, then, Ms Noble?"

Inhaling, she coughed a little. "Surprise me. I don't care! It's all so... just incredible!"

She bounced away, leaving the Doctor to grin back at his controls. He tapped on the computer screen, his mind buzzing about all the places he could take her. Since she was such a fan of Agatha Christie, maybe a library in the distant future (compared to the 1920s) would be fun.

"Donna!" he shouted. "I think I have an idea!"

There was no answer. Figuring she was too busy changing, the Doctor walked around and tinkered with a few gages. He ran his hand through his hair, wondering if she'd prefer a tiny little respite before the embarked on anything too extravagant again.

"Before we do that, how about we stop over to Boton Prime for a really good cup of tea? You'll love it!"

Still no answer, and the Doctor looked up. Her room wasn't that far. Shrugging, he sat on the jumper seat and exhaled loudly, unwinding from the day's adventure. He closed his eyes, relishing in a moment of solitude.

A light blip popped up on the screen.

_Toxicity levels rising_. Knitting his eyebrows together, the Doctor leaned forward and grabbed his sonic screwdriver. Scanning himself, he frowned. "All the cyanide is out of my system," he muttered. So why was the TARDIS detecting the poison at all, let alone at elevated levels.

The Doctor's head shot up.

"Donna!" he shouted, leaping out of the chair and sprinting toward her room. The door was shut, and he hated to risk invading her privacy. He knocked. "Donna! Donna, are you all right?"

The lack of answer nearly brought both of his hearts to a stand-still. Yet he slowly opened the door and cautiously poked his head through. "Donna?" he called. "Donna, please answer me!"

"Doctor..."

That was not Donna's voice. It was thin and raspy. Within seconds, the Doctor charged into the room, looking everywhere at once. A door that must have led to the bathroom was ajar, its light creating a slice through the darkened bedroom. Rushing toward it, the Doctor opened the door with strained force.

Crouched down on her hands and knees, Donna was moving with effort to catch her breath. She had managed to change out of her gown; it was pooled next to her. Dressed in a loose robe, her hair remained elaborately styled. Its fanciness seemed to be mocking her as she heaved violently.

She looked up at him, and the Doctor's blood ran cold. Her skin was ghostly white, accented only by the unnaturally blueish tint to her lips. Instantly, he was at her side, placing a gentle hand on her back.

"Can't... breathe..." she gasped.

He scanned her, the sonic's readouts confirming his suspicion. "Cyanide. You have a trace amount in your system," he said.

"How?"

He shook his head, muttering _detox_, and pushed away the guilt of how it got into her system. He needed to help her first.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

She nodded. With his help, she stumbled upward, moaning as a wave of dizziness overtook her. He clutched close. "I've got you," he whispered.

But only after a couple of wobbly steps, Donna gasped and nearly fell over. The Doctor quickly compensated and shifted. She groaned lightly as he swung her into her arms.

Her eyes widened with indignation. He shook his head to negate her complaints. "We need to get you to the infirmary, and it's quicker this way," he explained.

She nodded and grasped at his suit lapels. Her head didn't so much rest on his shoulder as it fell sideways. Feeling more panicked, he practically ran the rest of the way.

Gently placing her on the infirmary bed, he turned to see a pill waiting for him. Closing his eyes in silent gratitude to his TARDIS, he practically shoved it in Donna's clamped mouth.

"This will hold the symptoms back until I can get a proper antidote," he explained, even though he doubted she could hear him.

Immediately, her eyes shot open and she gasped in breath like she'd been drowning. The Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder, easing her to a sitting position. He patiently waited for her to ingest the air she desperately needed before carefully guiding her back down again.

"Easy now," he whispered. Looking up at the readouts that had been taken the moment he'd placed her on the bed, he nodded hopefully. "It is cyanide. Just a little. The TARDIS picked it up when you came in, and it's been trying to remove it from your system. Unfortunately, you had a negative reaction to its extraction methods."

She looked at him for a moment and then at the ceiling. "Sorry," she muttered, and the Doctor wasn't sure if she was apologizing to him or to his ship.

He traced his fingers over her forehead. "Don't worry," he assured her. "The poison has been tempered with salt and can be easily removed with a little bit of hydroxocobalamin." He smiled at her. "I can do that!"

He started to move, but she clutched at his hand. "How did it get in me?" she whispered.

A slow blush warmed his cheeks. "Do you remember how you shocked me during _my_ detox?"

A shade of pink that matched his brought the color back to her white skin. "Oh yeah."

The Doctor shuddered as the guilt returned. "I am so sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. "Will you kiss me?"

He laughed. "If you want me to," he said.

"None of that," she muttered, the color seeping fast from her cheeks again. She closed her eyes. The Doctor placed her hand on her chest and draped a blanket over her. Turning quickly, he gathered the necessary chemicals to cure her. He kept talking, not sure if he was assuring her or himself of the simplicity of the treatment.

Raising the bed so she was more upright, he guided the liquid into her mouth, making sure she'd consumed it all. Eager to remain in contact, he sat next to her, keeping her cradled in his arms.

Nervously, he looked up at the screen. He slowly exhaled in relief as he watched the toxicity levels drop. Beside him, her breathing became less labored. He hugged her closer.

"That's my Donna," he muttered, massaging her arms. They remained still; the Doctor hoped she wasn't silently suffering any effects. But she was still and breathing easily in his arms.

The monitors indicated that she was starting to rouse. The Doctor regretted the loss of proximity, but he knew she'd be more comfortable if she was lying down. Gently resting her head against the pillow, he removed the small headpiece so it wouldn't be a discomfort as she slept.

Studying her to see if there was anything else he could do for her, he sighed and pushed some of her hair away from her face. Thinking of her suggestion of kissing her, he smiled and leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. He stayed close, hovering over her and wishing he could wipe away the guilt running through him.

The Doctor pulled a chair next to the bed. His eyes never leaving her, he took Donna's hand and massaged it gently, giving her whatever assurance he could.

The console only registered about five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before Donna slowly moved. She whimpered a little as consciousness returned. The Doctor held her hand tighter, softly calling out to her.

Sighing, she turned to the sound of his voice. When her eyes opened, the Doctor did not keep his relief at bay. He grinned widely. "Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty!"

Groaning a little, Donna offered a tired smile. "You're a hell of a Prince Charming." Her voice was a little cracked, but it was musical to him.

He looked at her with mock indignation. "I am quite charming," he insisted.

"Yes, you are when you want to be," she said, holding his gaze. "That's the last time I kiss you."

He sat up straighter, inwardly thrilled she was well enough to tease him. "I promise the next time will be much nicer."

Her eyes narrowed. "Next time?"

He looked down, bashful. "Well, you never know..."

Donna breathed in and out again. "You never know."

The Doctor sat back and sighed, the adrenalin sifting from his body.

Donna inhaled shakily. "Well, that was fun," she muttered.

Growing serious, he leaned closer. "Are you all right? All the readings say you are, but I just want to make sure, and there could be some set backs, and you should let me know if you're - "

She pulled her hand free to place it atop his rambling lips. "I'm fine, Spaceman," she said. "Thanks to you."

His shoulders slumped. "You mean no thanks to me," he said.

Her eyes widened. "Let's just say we're even now," she suggested.

Claiming her hand again, he grinned. "You are brilliant, you know," he said.

Her laughter was light, but strong, assuring them both that all would be well.

_Oh, and I have no idea if Donna's symptoms or the cure the Doctor gave her would really work. But she cured him with anchovies and a whopper of a kiss (that he fully appreciated, I might add). So, it's all good._


	7. Just One More

**Just One More**

"I know it's around this corner."

Donna rolled her eyes. "You said that three corners ago," she complained. "And before that, it was 'just down this block,' for five blocks!"

The Doctor turned and studied a street sign. Scratching his head, he squinted at the map.

"At least you're not licking things this time," Donna said.

"Should I be?"

"NO!" Donna exclaimed. "One of these days, you're going to get poisoned doing that."

He flashed her a cheeky grin. "Well, you'll just have to kiss me again."

Her cheeks flushed. "Or I could slap some sense into you again."

He stepped back, undeterred. "But isn't this exciting!? A whole alien city to explore in the thirty-eighth century!"

She sighed. But as his gaze turned from enthusiasm to slightly doubtful, Donna smiled tiredly. "It's very nice Doctor."

"You said you wanted to see an alien city."

She nodded. "And we're seeing one, all right," she said and looked around. "Are you sure we're in a good part of town?"

He opened his mouth to reply but then immediately closed it. "Weeeellll, we're safe enough."

Her eyes widened. "Doctor!"

Stepping closer to her, his gaze was steady. "You'll be safe."

She exhaled with indignation. "I should know better by now," she muttered.

He smiled and turned to resume their quest. "Now, we'll be fine. I know the park is around here somewhere," he said, glancing down at a flimsy piece of paper.

Donna eyed it warily. "Are you sure you're holding that the right way?"

He turned to make sure. Pausing for a moment, he turned it again. "Oh, that's the way..."

Donna stopped. "That's it! I'm going into this store to ask directions!" she declared and started to turn.

The Doctor grabbed her shoulders. "Oh, Donna! Come on! Where's your sense of adventure!"

She glared at him. "If you must know, it's currently hiding behind my current need for some water!"

He released her. "We're almost there, I promise!"

"Why do you never ask for directions?"

He grinned and held up the map. "I don't need to! I got this!"

Donna eyed it warily. "You said we're going to a park, and I don't see any sign of one." She looked at the various groups of people around them. "Surely some of these Future People know what we're looking for."

He looked at the map as if it would have an answer for her.

Donna snatched it from him. "And you're rubbish at reading these things. I swear, if something doesn't beep or blink, you're clueless," she muttered.

"I'm perfectly capable of reading that," he protested.

After a beat, she handed it back to him. "Yes, you are," she said, "if we landed three hundred years earlier." She pointed to a small number in the corner. "I'm no expert, but if the TARDIS is translating correctly, this map is a bit out-of-date."

Crestfallen, the Doctor took the map back from her. "Oh."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just duck in here and ask someone," she waved at the shop.

Her pursed his lips. "One more corner?" he pleaded. "Please?"

Donna sighed deeply. "All right, one more," she conceded. "But if there's no sign or anything, we'll come right back here and ask. And maybe get something to drink?"

He blinked. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yeah," she assured him. "Just a little parched."

Nodding, the Doctor, reached down to grab her hand as they continued their search. Donna felt calmer at his familiarly chilly touch.

They rounded the corner, and Donna actually felt disappointed for the Doctor. She knew he really wanted to find whatever-this-place was on his own.

But to her surprise, the Doctor was smiling. No, he was beaming.

"What?"

He gestured toward a glass door. "Here it is!"

Baffled, Donna looked over and read the sign. Backward Park.

"That's the park?" she asked, incredulous.

He nodded. "Oh yes!" he exclaimed. His attention was diverted by a family walking toward them. "And see! Others are going there too!" He stepped aside and greeted the group.

"But it's inside!"

He swayed in front of the door, soaking in its every detail. "I know!" he exclaimed. "What kind of park is inside!?" He leaned closer to a sign next to the door. "And look! They have something called EveryBerry Juice as well as all sorts of food." He turned back to her. "I'll buy the biggest cup for you!"

Grinning, Donna peered over and read the sign. "What does that mean? Backward park?"

The Doctor held out his hand again. "Care to find out?"

A thrill chased down her spine and she nodded.

He opened the door and bowed to her. "_Après vous!_"

_I tried writing this story three times. This is the only version I liked enough to post. And I learned that the destination wasn't nearly as entertaining as their bickering, which is why I left them to explore whatever that park is on their own. Uh, Ten and Donna, your marriage is showing._


	8. To the Fair

**Disclaimer**: _Doctor Who_ belongs to BBC. No infringement is intended.

**A/N**: this is inspired from a tumblr prompt

**To the Fair**

Swinging the TARDIS door open with a flourish, the Doctor's face was alit with pure joy.

He jumped outside into the sunshine, filling his lungs with the planet's crisp fresh air.

"Here we are!" he exclaimed. "The beautiful metropolis of Bofor…" His voice trailed as he realized that the scenery around him was not what he'd expected. Instead of crowded streets in front of him and skyscrapers towering overhead, nothing but a thick forest could be seen, and the only sounds were not the rush of traffic but the call of some sort of avian life form and a distant melody he couldn't quite place.

Behind him, Donna sighed with affectionate resignation. Only traveling the stars for a few months, she seemed to have a better understanding than her guide that they often didn't end up where (or when) he thought they would.

"That's not right," he muttered.

Donna looked around, taking in her surroundings. "The trees look normal," she observed. "Did you land us in Epping Forest?"

Still murmuring, the Doctor ran over to a tree and scanned it.

Donna walked up next to him and bent over. "Anything of interest?"

"Nah, just a tree," the Doctor answered. He looked up, scrunching his face into the wind. "Do you hear that?"

Donna looked around. "Hear what?" she asked. "Is it some form of telepathy again? Like the Ood?"

"No, it's music," the Doctor answered. He placed a hand on Donna's shoulder and turned her a little into the slight breeze's downdraft. "Listen."

Stilling, Donna strained to listen. Very faintly, what sounded like wind chimes drifted to her. "Sounds like a merry-go-round," she commented.

The Doctor's face lit up. "Want to find out?"

Matching his enthusiasm, Donna smiled. "Of course!"

Jumping around, the Doctor practically skipped in the musical source's direction.

"I'm not quite sure what century we're in," he mused. "Or even if we're on the right planet for that matter. Maybe we're on the wrong side of the planet. Ah, who knows? All I know is that…"

He turned to see Donna quickly meeting up with him, smiling happily. Resuming his trek, the Doctor inhaled deeply. "I must admit that this probably smells a lot better than a city would. As much as I enjoy cities, there's nothing like the quiet calmness of a forest to recharge your batters, isn't that right?"

He looked over. Donna wasn't next to him. Turning again, he saw her brisk gait to catch up. "Did you see something?" he asked, looking behind her.

"No," she said, her voice a little breathless. "You just walk fast."

He frowned. "Oh, sorry about that." He cocked his head. "Shall we?"

"After you."

Making an effort to walk a little slower, the Doctor again became lost in his fervor for exploration. "I wonder if the entire civilization collapsed and we're walking on its remains that have been reborn. Fascinating, isn't it? How life goes on even as societies fall."

He fell quiet for a moment, noticing how the music was getting louder. Not breaking his stride, squinted and noticed the trees were starting to thin in the distance. "Looks like we're getting close!" he noted.

He heard Donna's hastened footsteps as she fell in step with him. "How can you tell?" she asked, her voice a tad thinner.

He gestured ahead of him. "It's less dense up ahead," he said before taking a deep breath in. "And I can smell something cooking."

"Oh good," Donna said. "I could use a proper meal."

The music was definitely getting louder. The Doctor could hear other instruments accompanying the chimes. His smile widened. "I think it's a celebration or something," he said, charging forward. "Oh! Maybe it's a festival! Like something to mark the changing of seasons or a local religious holiday. I do love a good carnival. Did I ever tell you of the time I was in Venice during Carnival and someone with a mask gave me some sort of wine. The next thing I knew, I was…" He turned to once again find no one at his side. "Donna?"

She jogged up to him. She was still smiling, but he could see her breathing a little heavier. "Are you all right?" He inhaled again. "The air seems normal here. Nothing unsafe for human lungs." Pulling out his screwdriver, he started to scan her, but she batted him away.

"I'm fine, you dunce," she said. "You just have longer legs than I do."

He frowned. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I keep forgetting."

"Eh, I'm used to it," she said. "It keeps me in shape, literally running after you."

"Still," he muttered. He held out his hand. "Shall we?"

Eagerly accepting it, Donna grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Your treat, though. Buy me something to eat, and we'll call it even."

"Oh yes," he said affectionately. "My treat."

They continued at a more leisurely pace. The Doctor looked up at the sun catching through the foliage. "It's quite lovely, isn't it?"

Following his gaze, Donna sighed. "You have your moments," she admitted.

Finally approaching the clearing, he heard Donna gasp. He had been correct; it was a large festival. What looked like an endless field stretched before them, crammed with what could pass as "normal" carnival things, but they also looked slightly different. Slightly alien. The tents rose to skyscraper height. What they assumed to be rides were nothing but blurs of color and light. The revelers themselves were humanoid but not exactly human.

The chimes that had led them there were revealed to be caused by a small five-member band, playing an upbeat and unearthly melody while a dozen beings danced before them.

The Doctor threw his arms in the air in triumph. "Oh now _this_ is a party!"

Laughing, Donna started to sprint ahead. "Come on, Spaceboy."

_**A/N:** So it's a little campy, but I felt like I should at least describe the destination this time._


	9. Lullaby

_Again, inspired from a tumblr prompt._

_This is set after _Midnight

**Lullaby (Doctor/Donna)**

The blank look in his eyes had terrified her. She'd seen those eyes wide with surprise, squinting with mirth, bulging with rage. But it was the vacant emptiness that scared her to her core. It made her want to hunt down whatever that thing was and destroy it all over again.

But now, he needed _her_. He'd deny it, but she knew he needed someone to guide him and take charge. Even if for just a little while. She'd taken him back to the TARDIS and demanded he rest. He'd protested. She knew he would. He'd said he didn't need sleep, so she had countered and said to just find a quiet place and let her be. He'd disappeared, and Donna had been in the kitchen, making some dinner and trying to think of some place peaceful for their next destination.

Donna checked the clock in the kitchen. It had been two hours. Smirking to herself, she was satisfied that she'd been right. Still, the unfamiliar quiet of the TARDIS felt a little odd.

She didn't know where he'd gone off to. Hopefully to his room, and she had no interest in going there, thank you. Grabbing some cookies and pouring a warm cup of cocoa, Donna wandered over to the library.

Stopping short as entered, she found where her Spaceman had chosen to rest. Sprawled out on the beat-up red couch, the Doctor was so still in his slumber. Donna stared down at him, marveling how young a nine-hundred-year-old being could look.

Glancing around, she clicked her tongue at the mess around her. While she knew she was in danger of violating her own directive that he sleep, she didn't want to leave. Something was keeping her in the room with him; whether it was for his comfort or her assurance, she didn't want to dwell on. Donna started to gather the various books and knick-knacks, from who-knows-where-or-when. Absently, she hummed a soft melody as she worked. She had half a mind to start dusting too, and when she turned to see a cloth and some cleaning solution, she gave the walls a cynical smirk.

"Guess again, honey," she whispered before resuming her reorganizing, humming once again.

A soft moan silenced her. She paused and looked over. The Doctor was still sleeping; he'd turned over a little and grabbed at the blanket.

Regretting the possibility that she had disturbed him, she gathered her food and started to dash out of the room.

"Don't go."

His voice was soft, but it sounded light, happy. More like him.

Donna turned and saw a pair of brown eyes gazing at her with their usual intensity. It was such a welcome sight; she had to catch her breath.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to wake you." She turned to leave again.

"No, wait, Donna!" he called again as he sat up. "That was nice."

"What was nice?"

"The humming," he said. "That was a pretty tune."

Her checks colored a little. "Oh…yeah."

He sat up my fully and waved for her to come back in. Obliging, Donna settled on a chair across from him. "I've never heard it before," he said. "What's it called?"

Embarrassed, Donna's smile was small. "It was just some silly thing my dad used to hum while he was working around the house. It would get stuck in my head for hours when I was a kid. I think he made it up."

Donna looked over to see him smiling at her. "That's a lovely memory, Donna," he said softly.

Her throat unexpectedly tight, Donna nodded.

He continued to watch her. "And you have a very pretty voice."

_That_ was too much. "Okay," she said, standing up.

He smiled sadly and threw his palms into the air. "Okay, I'll stop," he conceded.

Pursing her lips, Donna walked over and sat on the edge of the couch. He leaned back, still looking tired. She flipped a few strands of hair from his forehead. His eyes had not left her since she'd told her story.

As her fingers danced through his hair, she saw some color return to his cheeks.

"Feeling more like yourself now?" she asked.

He nodded. Donna leaned over and kissed his forehead. Maybe she lingered longer than she should have, but she wanted to assure him that she would always be there for him. When she pulled back, his countenance was completely at ease.

"I'll let you rest up some more," she said, standing.

As she gathered her things, a low sound joined the TARDIS's song. She turned and looked at the Doctor, tears distorting her vision. He was staring at the ceiling and humming her father's tune.

When he'd finished, he turned and straightened in alarm when he saw the stricken look on her face. "I'm sorry!"

She laughed tightly. "It's okay," she stammered. "It's just been a while since I heard it from someone else. Even my mum stopped when he died."

The Doctor held out his arm. With no hesitation, she returned to him and rested in his light embrace. They sat quietly, letting their thoughts drift along with the TARDIS's steady drone.

"Donna?" he asked after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She turned and smiled, happy he'd let her comfort him. "Sure, Spaceman."

_Headcanon: Eleven and Twelve (etc.) still hum that tune._


	10. Damsel to the Rescue

**Disclaimer**_: Doctor Who _belongs to the BBC. No infringement is intended.

**A/N:**_ This, too, was inspired by a tumblr prompt asking for the "prince" rescuing the "princess" from a dragon. Well, this turned out to be much more epic than I thought it would be. But the Doctor and Donna demanded I write a full plot and not just the shippy parts I'd initially envisioned. But the shippy parts are still there, of course._

_Oh, and I apologize for the bad science. I tried looking stuff up. Honestly._

**Damsel to the Rescue**

The stairs seem to be never ending. The Doctor looks up, seeing a spiral above him. Ignoring the stitch in his side, he sprints onward, his mind focused only on one thing. One person.

_Donna_.

How could he have been so stupid!? He watched her walk away, not knowing anything was amiss until he couldn't find her again. As the crowds thickened and he started hearing murmurs of the red-haired sacrifice to some sort of beast, the concern fluttering in his stomach had morphed into a full blown terror. Then he heard _fifteen more minutes_, and the faces looking upward toward the sky. The only thing he could see was the tower. And that was all he needed.

The Doctor's pace quickens to leaping two steps at a time. He had about seven minutes left. The crowd's cries are dimmer now, but they seem to have grown in energy. Time is nearly out.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, he's not at all surprised to find it vacant. No guards would want to be around whenever this beast arrived. He rushes over to the wooden door, muttering in exasperation. He prays Donna is on the other side. But then there's another part of him that wishes she's anywhere _but_ this horrible place.

Fortunately, the lock is iron. Whipping out his sonic, the door flies open without so much as a creek. The Doctor charges in.

"Donna!"

He freezes, all his panic snapping away for a moment.

"Doctor!" she strides forward, her face pure happiness. She's dressed in silks of the richest blue; the Doctor swears they must have been dyed to match her azure eyes. Her hair is clipped up in some sort of tiara of sapphires and gold. Around her wrists are solid gold bands. In short, she is stunning.

"Donna!" the Doctor gasps. She takes his hands in his. She is completely sanguine, and something about her blithe composure sends shivers down the Doctor's spine.

"Where have you been?" she asks.

"What are you dressed like that for?"

She pulls away, offended. "Can't a girl wear some pretty clothes?"

He stops, knowing he's wasting time. But why is she acting like this? "You look lovely," he says in a rush. It's true. She's gorgeous. But he cannot think about how distracting her beauty is at the moment. He gently places his hands on her shoulders, knowing he has to crack through whatever trance she's in. "Did they give you these clothes?"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed. "They said I was their princess."

He squints. "And you believed them!?"

She wriggles free again. "Well why not?" she asks hotly, looking wounded. "I figured you encouraged it and would meet me later for some sort of party." She gives him a scathing once over. "I guess not."

The crowd's cheering changes in tone. The Doctor looks out the small open window. From the distance, he can see everyone turned in the opposite direction, their faces upward. He follows their visual path to the open sky. Whatever is coming, it's flying there. And soon.

He whirls around and rushes back to Donna. He leans in closely and scans her with the screwdriver, frowning. "They've somehow hindered your frontal lobe. Your reasoning has been tampered with."

She swats away from him. "I hate it when you do that."

"You've been hypnotized, Donna!" he says, his voice rising in pitch. "Of course you would be. They need a willing person to be locked up here."

"I'm not locked up here!"

The crowd's cheer becomes manic. And a little frightened. Dread shoots through every cell in the Doctor's body.

"You're _not_ their princess, Donna!" he shouts at her. "You're their sacrifice!"

As if on cue, a loud and horribly primal roar shakes the entire room. The far wall completely disappears, the high winds whipping Donna's hair and dress around her. It also serves to break whatever spells she's under, as she stumbles a little and the carefree look in her eyes is replaced with horror.

There's no further need for compliance from their sacrifice.

The Doctor pushes her a little behind him as he stares into the open sky. He sniffs thoroughly, trying to make out what had just made that awful noise.

Donna's scream pierces through him.

He turns to see her being pulled by some sort of invisible force to the far wall. She slams harshly against it, and her wrists are drawn upwards to either side of her head, pinned to the wall by the pretty golden bracelets. He runs to her, pulling on the sparkling shackles.

"They won't move!" he shouts.

"I know!" She's pulling so hard, the edges are starting to cut into her pale skin. "Sonic them!"

He's already trying, but the binds won't move.

They become even more frantic as another loud screech blocks out all other noise.

"What the hell is that!?"

"Sounds like your intended," the Doctor mutters, trying a different setting on the screwdriver.

"Doctor!"

He looks up and sees tears forming in her eyes. He stops and grabs her face with a little more force that he would have liked. "I will not leave you," he vows. Her face is ashen with terror, but she nods.

The screwdriver blinks furiously. Studying it, the Doctor slaps his forehead. "They're potassium permanganate-based!"

"What!?"

He looks over and finds a large pitcher of water. His hearts racing with each other, he grabs it. "That means if I do this – " He throws some water on her one hand. The gold partially dissolves and her wrist drops. Grinning at the momentary victory, he does the same with the other wrist. "You're free!"

She grabs his hand and they rush to the door. A low rumbling makes the floor vibrate. Slowly, they turn and are struck still.

An unbelievable large reptilian face is staring at them. Its green eyes are nearly glowing against the pearly black scales. It snarls, and just the glimpse of teeth that look to be about a foot long each makes Donna choke back a scream.

"It's a bloody dragon!"

Its eyes bulge, and its throat changes from onyx to a deep maroon.

Donna tugs on the Doctor's hand. "Come on!"

The Doctor is still transfixed; part of him wants to see what happens, even though he knows he won't survive it.

"Doctor!"

The panic in Donna's voice snaps him from his curiosity, and he pushes her through the door. They're nearly down ten steps as fire explodes above them. The Doctor hunches over Donna, hissing as his right shoulder seers in agony.

He ignores it, and they practically fly down the spiral stone staircase. Pieces of rafters and some charred remains of Donna's elaborate prison fall around them.

Jumping down the last few steps, the Doctor tightens his grip on Donna's hand. There's no way he's letting her go for a moment.

"The TARDIS is on the other side of the courtyard," he calls.

"I remember," she pants, thankful her fancy shoes are also somewhat practical. They dash off and nearly collide into two completely befuddled and anxious guards.

Without blinking, Donna reaches back and punches the closest hard in the jaw. "That's for tricking me into being that thing's dinner!" she shouts.

The two men look completely terrified.

"You need to go back!" the non-bruised guard exclaims, stepping toward Donna.

The Doctor jumps between them with a growl just as dangerous as the dragon's.

"It'll kill us all if it's not appeased!"

To emphasize, a large shadow flies overhead, causing the crowd in the courtyard to chaotically run in every direction. Donna pulls the Doctor under a colonnade. The two guards close in on them.

The Doctor stands in front of Donna. "You kidnap my friend to make her your sacrifice and you expect me to care about your lizard problem!"

A deluge of fire ignites the sky. It doesn't hit anything, but the heat makes even the normally-cool Time Lord's brow glisten with sweat.

"It goes away if only one is taken."

The Doctor is seething. "So you hypnotize people into being its happy little snacks?"

"We don't know what else to do!"

The Doctor feels a slight tug on his hand.

"Help them," a soft whisper instantly soothes his racing hearts.

Incredulous, he turns. Donna's expression is pleading.

"This is what you do," she says.

His jaw clenches, her words breaking through his rage. The idea that they'd cast her off, his beautiful Donna, makes his stomach turn. He glares, his outrage for what could have happened to her at war with the fact that she'd already forgiven her would-be murderers.

"Please," she says.

_Oh, Donna_. He nods and squeezes her hand again.

He rounds on the guards. "Why does it have to kill to be appeased?"

The one guard's jaw was already turning purple from where Donna had struck him. "It eats them," he muttered.

Donna blanched. The Doctor's eyes narrowed. "Why does eating one human satisfy it? How often do you do this?"

Some bits of stone scatter overhead. The Doctor leans back to risk a peak to the sky. The dragon has settled itself atop another castle spire, looking as if it's trying to seek out its next victim. It makes a strange noise. The crowd has huddled along the colonnade that encloses the courtyard.

"We do it every thirty days."

"What!?" Donna shrieks. "You send some poor person to their death that often!?"

"Nothing else has worked!"

Donna glares. "Maybe we _should_ let that beast eat you all up."

The dragon folds its wings. The Doctor studies it; it must be at least thirty feet in length with its wings fully spread. It makes another odd hacking noise.

"That's not a roar," the Doctor muses.

"Sounds like it's choking."

The Doctor's eyes widen. "Choking! That's it!"

Donna blinks. "What?"

"It can't breathe properly in this atmosphere."

"Doesn't it live here?" Donna asks, "Like native or something?"

The Doctor turns to the guards. "How long have you been mining that ore in your caves that you're so proud of?"

"Uh, a couple hundred years, I guess."

"And how long has that creature been eating your people?"

They exchange a look; their silence answers his question.

The Doctor smiles and scans the air.

Donna watches him. "How does eating people make it breathe easier?"

Not answering her, the Doctor reads the screwdriver. "This atmosphere is lacking mineral ions. You humans carry that in your blood. The creature must need it to survive. So, it finds it any way it can get it."

He smiles widely at Donna. "You're brilliant," he says and takes her hand again. "Let's go. We can counteract the air pollution and stop all this."

The guards stand straighter. "You can help?"

He glares at them. "Yes, even though you don't deserve it." He and Donna push past them.

They walk to the end of the colonnade and stop short. The TARDIS is on the other side of the courtyard. The only direct route is running through the center, which leaves them wide open for dragon food. The colonnade surrounding is crammed with people. Some of them have noticed Donna and are pointing at her.

"There's the sacrifice! That's why the creature is angry! She's escaped!"

"Oh, great," the Doctor mutters. He turns to Donna. "We have one choice."

Donna inhales and hikes up her dress with her free hand. She offers a tight smile. "Fine day to be a princess," she says.

He nods and tries to say something memorable, but nothing smart comes to mind. "_Allons-y_," he whispers.

They dash as fast as they can. Above them, the creature's screech reverberates off the walls. The sun is blocked out as its tremendous wings are unfurled, and even from that distance, the downdraft of its strokes make Donna's hair fly upward. Terrified shrieks around them confirm what the Doctor cannot look up to see: it's preparing to scorch them. He runs faster, hoping Donna isn't losing her footing.

An inferno erupts behind them. He can see their jumping shadows as the wall they're heading towards illuminates with an eerie orange glow. Behind him, he thinks he can hear Donna shouting, but all that fills his ears is the thunderous roar.

They reach the colonnade but are blocked by the crowd. They press at Donna.

"You're the one it wants! Save us!"

Scared but resolved, Donna pushes forward toward the TARDIS, swinging at people. The remnants of her bracelets serve to knock several people senseless.

"Get away you crazy lot!" she screams.

The Doctor is trying to reason with them; that he knows how to help. But the mob is too frantic. Donna stumbles back into the open space. She whirls around as the dragon quickly turns mid-flight and starts to descend right at her.

The Doctor reaches up with the sonic, making the ceiling start to crumble and the columns crack. The crowd jumps, crushing their fellow townsfolk back. Donna leaps to the safety of cover, shouting angrily at the cowering people.

Finally, the Doctor flings the TARDIS doors open, pulling Donna inside far more roughly that he would have liked. But she's not complaining. She leans over and gasps heavily. The Doctor charges toward the console, fiddling with various levers and buttons. Donna grabs the railing as they're jolted violently upward.

"Just a smidgen of phosphorous and a dash of potassium," the Doctor rambles, flipping a switch. Donna manages to join him, watching his hands fly along the controls. He looks up and gives her a wide smile. "Thaaaat ought to do it!"

They jerk sideways, and he catches her arm when she stumbles toward him. She regains her footing and looks at the monitor. She's learned a little on how to read the strange symbols. But her eyes narrow, not sure she's read it correctly. "One hundred years?"

He shrugs and brushes some soot off his shoulder, wincing a little at the burned skin. "Would you like to see what their future looks like?"

Donna glances downward. "Maybe I should change first out of this stupid outfit," she says quietly. "I should have known better than to think I was some sort of princess."

He stops, the discomfort of his back completely forgotten. He regards her, smudged with ash, her hair in disarray, her wrists raw and bleeding from the golden handcuffs. She's _still_ stunning.

"You certainly rule things around here," he says. But his attempt to make her laugh falls flat. She doesn't even look up to meet his eyes.

The Doctor steps closer and gently takes her hands in his. "I think you look beautiful," he says. She finally raises her head; she inhales at his intensity. He leans a little closer. "And you certainly don't need all this stuff to show it." He gestures to her gown. The TARDIS core brightens a little as if in agreement.

She shakes her head. "Because of me, you were hurt," she insists, looking at his charred shoulder. "If I'd stayed with you, this wouldn't have happened."

If anything, his eyes burn brighter. "Because of you, my brilliant Donna Noble, countless others were saved from being future meals."

He steps back and tugs on her hand. "Come on," he says. "We'll just take a peek."

They open the TARDIS doors to an entirely different world. The buildings still look quaint and medieval. The castle still stands majestically in the distance. But there is something different in the air, and the Doctor knows it's not the elements he's returned to the atmosphere. The people are brightly dressed, smiling happily at each other as they go about their provincial lives.

A shadow passes over them, and they look up. A large dragon flies lazily, followed closely by a miniature version.

"Oh, a baby!" Donna whispers. The townspeople pay the beasts no more attention than they would a flock of geese.

The Doctor wraps his good arm around her back and hugs her. "Because of you, life is possible for all creatures on this planet," he says.

A little smile lights Donna's face, and he's glad he finally made her realize how amazing she was in their latest adventure.

"I knew you'd figure it out," she dismisses the compliment.

But the Doctor won't let her eschew the praise she more than deserves. He shifts to stand very close. "And once again, you made me remember how anyone is worth saving."

Her cheeks redden deeply. "Yeah," she says, turning back to the village in embarrassment. After a moment, the Doctor follows her gaze, letting the moment go.

They stare at the fairy-tale like scene for a little while longer before Donna turns to him.

"Thanks for being my knight in shining armor," she says.

He grins and steps back to their home. "Come on. I'll take you to a place where they know how to properly treat a princess."

"Oh yeah?" Where?"

His smile is warm. "The TARDIS."


	11. Hat Trick

_This takes place between the Doctor's Daughter and The Unicorn and the Wasp (no episode references)_

**Hat Trick**

The word _cozy_ wasn't often applied to the rooms of the TARDIS. But it was the only apt description for one of Donna's favorite places. Nestled in the warmth of a large, comfortable couch, she snuggled up in her blanket and placed her novel next to her while she sipped her tea. Across from her, the Doctor readjusted his glasses as he got further lost in his latest tome. She had no idea what he would find interesting. He, a nine-hundred year old alien who had probably read everything from every galaxy in every language.

The TARDIS herself seemed to be in a lazy mood; her song was low and comforting. If there were windows, Donna was convinced rain would be soaking the panes.

Something caught her eye. Frowning, she leaned forward and saw a bright box poking behind the Doctor's chair.

"What's that?"

He looked up. "What?"

Placing her book aside, she left her chair's warm haven and stood, tea in hand, to the spot in question. Recognizing it, she was only puzzled further. "I thought I left that in my room!"

Intrigued, the Doctor forgot about his own reading and twisted in his seat. "That's your hat box!"

"Yeah, but why is it here?"

The Doctor gave the walls a wary look. But to Donna, he kept his tone off handed. "Why did you bring that again?"

She shrugged. "Planet of the Hats," she answered. "I wanted to be prepared."

He removed his glasses, chewing on the ends as he thought. "There is no Planet of the Hats," he said.

She hoisted the box into her arms and pouted. "Not even a place where they wear fun things on their heads?"

He stared off. "Well, there's Brixitar," he started. "Once a year, they celebrate their king's birthday with a massive festival… oh, we can't go there."

"Why not? Do they wear fun hats during this festival?"

His cheeks colored. "Yes, but that's _all_ they wear."

Donna grinned at the blushing Time Lord. "Well, then we ought to go!"

The Doctor's mouth dropped, and Donna felt triumphant at silencing him. But she took pity on him. "No worries, Doctor," she said. "Your honor is safe with me."

She opened the box, not catching how the Doctor's cheeks were slow to cool.

"Is there another place?"

He cleared his throat. "Let me think."

She revealed a pretty white hat with an orange ribbon around it. Placing it atop her head, she posed. "What do you think?"

The Doctor smiled. "Lovely," he replied.

"I bought if for my friend's wedding," she supplied, placing it back in the box. "Funny that you spend all that money and only wear it once."

"OH!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I know where we can go! Dartor's second moon has a fantastic race every five years, and they wear such fun clothes."

"Hats?"

He bounced up and ran over to her. "Lots of hats," he answered, extending his hand. "Come, let's see if we can find something." With his free hand, he gathered Donna's hat box as he led her down the hall to the TARDIS's massive closet.

Upon entering, Donna stilled and frowned.

He turned and stared at her. "What?"

She waved at the box in his hand. "I guess it was pretty silly of me to bring a hat when you've got all this," she said.

"Nah!" he said and grabbed her hand again. "Your hat is prettier than any old thing I've got in here," he assured her. The TARDIS hummed a little louder, as if offended.

"Here we are!"

Surrounded by dozens of hats, Donna laughed at the display. "Oh, this is fun," she muttered, digging into the collection. She threw a sombrero at him. "Cinco de Mayo?" she suggested.

He pursed his lips. "Something like that."

She flopped an over-sized Gatsby on her head. "Not showy enough?" she asked.

"You shouldn't cover your hair with that," he said, also starting to search around.

"Oh, my," Donna exclaimed, a soft and drawn out lilt to her voice. The Doctor turned to see her wearing a pretty lavender sun hat. Its shade complimented her hair, making her entire countenance seem luminescent. He gulped a little.

"Why, I declare, sir," she said with a very impressive Antebellum sing-song voice. She flittered her hand next to her face. "I believe we're off to a cotillion!"

"Scarlett indeed," he said, turning away before she noticed his red ears.

Her laughter made him turn around again.

She held up a pair of Mickey Mouse ears. "Why do you have this, of all things!?"

He snatched them away and grinned as he placed it on his head. "Well, it _is_ the happiest place on earth," he said.

"And you would know, too."

Still in her Southern Belle character, Donna delicately sat upon the floor. She adjusted the brim. The Doctor sat across from her.

She regarded him. "Can we buy hats at this race?"

"I believe so," he said and looked around. "Do you think we need more?"

Donna shook her head. "No, I want to buy someone a present."

* * *

The late April night was clear and crisp. A perfect night for stargazing.

Wilfred took another peek through the telescope before plopping into his chair and pouring another cup of tea. He wondered if he could see where Donna and her magical Doctor would be. He sipped, marveling at where (or when) she might be.

Voices cut into the normal nighttime sounds. Startled, Wilf turned quickly to see two people approaching him. His heart skipped. It was _them_.

Leaping up, his arms extended as Donna ran toward him.

"Hey there!" he exclaimed, hugging her tightly. She was beaming. How long had it been for them? It had only been a few days since the skies had been on fire. Who knows what she'd seen since then.

She stepped away, and he could see the tears glittering in her eyes. "Got a moment for your wayward granddaughter?"

"Do I have a moment," he repeated, chiding. He regarded the Doctor, whose broad smile sparkled brighter than the entire night sky.

"Hello, Wilfred," the Time Lord said, shaking his hand.

"We brought you a present," Donna exclaimed with the excitement of a five-year-old. She practically forced a box into his hands.

"You got something for your old Gramps?"

"I saw it and thought immediately of you," she said.

Eager to see what a gift from a futuristic space world would be like, Wilf opened the box and immediately laughed. Grinning, Donna dug inside and grabbed the odd, neon green hat with two large stalks jutting outward. She placed it over his red cap and nodded with satisfaction.

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. "It suits you perfectly."

Wilfred reached up to feel the alien thing. "I love it," he said. "And I'll only wear it while star gazing, thinking of you two."

Donna glanced at the Doctor, her expression pure and peaceful. Wilfred smiled to himself before grabbing another chair. "Please, I want to hear all about what you've been up to," he said.

He poured them cups of tea, and they immediately began to recount their latest tales. They'd often talk over each other or finish each other's sentences. Wilfred listened, enraptured, to their impossible stories. He had never been happier for his girl.

_I don't want to think about how giving Wilf a "future hat" would somehow be a paradox or something. _


	12. Different Approach

_This takes place right after Partners in Crime_

**Different Approach**

The Doctor flipped a bunch of switches. Frowning, he grabbed the ever-obliging mallet and smacked a few uncooperative levers upward. One of these days, he'd fix them.

"Oh my God! There's a swimming pool!"

The Doctor grinned. His latest traveling companion's excitement was contagious. No matter how many people he'd traveled with, no matter how old he became, he would _never_ tire of a new friend's enthusiasm at discovering the wonders of this life. Humans were the most emotive species he'd ever encountered, and he found himself needing that joy at times.

And no one had ever encapsulated that indomitable human spirit as much as Donna Noble.

The grin grew stronger. She hadn't been the only regretful one that Christmas. He thought he's brushed off his hurt when she'd declined his offer to join him. He'd tried to tell himself that it was no big deal.

But, meeting up with her again, he knew that was a lie. He was ecstatic to see her again, and he thrived on having her near.

She'd commented that he'd never changed, but he could not say the same for her. Well, he could to a degree. She was still wonderfully energetic. She had that assertive attitude that was an intoxicating force of nature. She still masked her fears and insecurities with bluster and shouting…

But she _had_ changed, and he was thrilled to reconnect with the woman who had been searching an entire year for him. She was still brilliant, but now just a little more so. Her compassion was tangible: her concern for Stacey and the other victims of Ms. Foster's endeavor… how she'd remembered Rose…Donna not only wanted to see the universe with him, she wanted to be there _for _him. To stop him or to guide him, he wasn't quite sure yet. And he was honored she had put so much passion into finding him. He would do his very best to make sure Donna Noble would find her own way to shine brighter than anyone.

"Get _out_!" she exclaimed, her voice even more distant. "Is that a forest!? Who has forest on a spaceship?!"

He laughed and looked up the walls. "She's making herself at home," he said. The console glowed brighter, pleased with the activity.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor thought he saw a small white object moving. He turned and frowned. There was nothing but empty space around him. Shrugging, he returned to one of the more stubborn levers, wondering why it seemed to insist on being unmovable.

A tiny chirp sounded over the constant hum.

"What?" the Doctor asked, peeling off his glasses and heading in the direction he'd thought the earlier movement bad been, the light noises increasing with each step.

Descending to his hands and knees, he peered under one of the far shelves. A small white ball of fat, literally, was scooching itself comfortably along the wall. It looked up at him and waved.

"Oh, hello!" he said brightly. "And how did you get in here?"

The baby Adipose blinked and smiled at him.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver. The tiny alien's eyes widened and it reached greedily at the bright light. But when the Doctor reached for it, it shrank back, fear replacing its curiosity.

"No, it's okay," he said, trying to sound reassuring. He tried flashing the screwdriver again to coax it. "We just need to get you home to your parents… or there will be hell to pay."

It refused to budge, staring at him with cautious eyes. The Doctor pushed back and blew out a dramatic breath. "Great," he muttered. In the distance, he could hear doors opening and closing. Suddenly remembering he wasn't alone, he jumped up.

"DONNA!"

Silence. He rolled his eyes. "Donna! Could you come to the console room?" Still nothing. "Please?!"

Quickly-paced footsteps sounded until she arrived, her eyes dancing. "Did you know there's a fountain?"

"Yes, it's Rococo, isn't it?" he asked and turned before she could answer. "I need your help. One of those infant Apdiposes must have wandered its way until the TARDIS – "

"You need my help?"

He pivoted to see her standing closely, surprised.

"Yes," he said. "If you don't mind."

She smiled eagerly. "No, I don't mind," she said and looked to where was pointing. When he returned to a crawling pose, she arched her eyebrow.

"What?"

"Did you drop your keys or something?"

"No, an infant alien is stowing away on the TARDIS and we need to get it out," he repeated. He waved for her to join him. "It won't come for me."

"Of course you probably scared it," she muttered, joining him on the floor.

"Aw! Hello!" Her voice rose in pitch and softened in tone. She extended her hand as far as she could. But unlike the Doctor's aggressive stance, she held her palm upward and lower. "Come here, little fella!"

The baby sucked on its finger, considering. The Doctor held his breath.

"Come on!" she coaxed.

It shook a little in what could only be considered a laugh and reached both its arms outward to her. It latched onto two of her fingers, and she slowly pulled it out. Giggling, she cuddled it close to her chest.

The Doctor watched, a bemused smile on his face.

Donna looked up. "You know, if it wasn't made of human fat and might have hurt or killed someone to be created, I might think it's kind of cute," she said. The baby made a little squeak and nestled in her embrace.

The Doctor chuckled. "You've made a new friend."

She smiled. "Can we keep him? Like our little pet or something?"

Frowning, the Doctor shook his head and pulled out the sonic again. "It'll get bigger."

She looked around. "Like we're cramped for space."

"No, not Great Dane big. Like elephant-sized big," he clarified.

She pouted. "Oh."

"And the parents will be missing it."

She looked down at her charge. It yawned and pulled at her jacket like a blanket. "With all those babies, how can they know one is missing?"

"Believe me, they'll know," he answered. He waved the screwdriver over his newest passenger. The chirping and bright light roused it, and it reached for the device again f.

Donna chuckled. "Babies and flashing lights," she muttered.

"I'll go and plot a course for the Adipose home world," the Doctor said, hoisting himself up. He extended a hand to Donna. She cradled the little alien as she followed him to the jump seat. "I wonder what Ms. Foster meant by its breeding planet disappearing…"

A light giggle diverted him from his train of thought. He turned to see Donna pulling her arm away from the little alien as it tried to nibble on her. "It tickles."

Peace spread through the Doctor at the sight. He marveled at how alive his ship had suddenly become, with just the arrival of one new person.

And _what_ a person…

He never knew how much he needed someone until she was there. And he had a feeling he'd come to deeply cherish Donna's presence.

He smiled at her before turning to enter their destination's coordinates.


End file.
